


Two In One

by Not_You



Category: Watchmen (Comic), Watchmen - All Media Types
Genre: Biting, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Violence, Double Penetration in One Hole, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Issues, Identity Porn, M/M, Multi, Secret Identity, Weird Fluff, Weirdness, by one person against himself, selfcest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 17:08:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3776644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_You/pseuds/Not_You
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a prompt where Rorschach gets physically split between his two identities.  And then jumps on Dan anyway, because both sides like him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two In One

They tumble out of Archie screaming and Dan is sickened at how much they sound like pigs being slaughtered. The sounds coming out of their human throats are uncanny and horrifying, the sounds of organisms showing red on every gauge. He doesn't know what the hell Moloch just did to them, but it's tearing them apart. He feels like every individual helix of DNA in his entire being is unzipping and flying apart like something burning on re-entry. 

The apocalypse is here and now and in his blood and he can hear Rorschach screaming too, and somehow everything doubles. The pain is gone, but the sense of wrongness isn't, and he's as weak as water. He's afraid that might be more than merely physical, because something seems gone from him, something important. The world swims in intolerably vivid color, and rising up before him in the darkness is the Owl God, monolithic and terrible with satanic ear-tufts and horrible knowledge gleaming in its great, awful golden eyes. It is Darkness, it is Mystery, and it thrashes through the workshop like the only real thing on a movie set. There's a horrible, guttural roar, a flash of light, and then nothing for a little while.

"Holy shit." Is the first thing Dan says upon waking, and Adrian Veidt doesn't disagree with it.

"Useless, narcissistic whore!" Rorschach is snarling, and Dan winces, shocked. His partner doesn't mince words, but he's usually nicer than this.

"You'll forgive me for shooting the enormous, rampaging owl beast instead of the known vigilante!" Adrian snaps, and Dan can see his eye twitching behind his mask. He's a bit shrill, and Dan sees why when he finally registers the hands cradling his head.

"Gah!" He points out the situation as best he can.

"Yes, I know." Adrian says, sighing.

"Hi." The voice is soft and husky like Rorschach at the end of a long but good night, when things have gone right and they've made a little bit of a difference. "I'm Walter."

"Uh, hi, Walter. Adrian, what happened?" Now he's getting shrill. Soon they'll sound like a fucking sorority.

"Moloch split you in two, separating your alter egos from the rest of you. As near as I can tell, Rorschach is a humanoid with memories because Walter has invested more in maintaining an actual separate personality than you have." Rorschach growls, and Dan's stomach flip-flops as he realizes that now there probably really is nothing underneath the mask, the joke answer... Walter, it must have been Walter, gave him the very first time he had asked. The thought had given him at least one nightmare. He shivers. Adrian hefts a massive silver gun that looks somewhere between eldritch and futuristic. "Fortunately, because this only has one shot every twenty-four hours. I used it to restore you, because it was obviously more dangerous to leave you than to leave Rorschach.

"To leave Walter." Rorschach growls, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Either way, you're just going to have to stay here tonight. I'll come back once this is charged."

"Why does it take so long?" Dan asks, feeling better enough to sit up, and curious despite this strange shattered feeling that's a little like being drunk and hungover at the same time.

"Partially because of the massive amount of energy required, partially because _I_ need to recharge. I would sustain permanent brain damage if I used it again without another night's worth of REM sleep."

"Okay, that's just creepy."

"It's not a very comfortable thing to fire. How does it feel to get hit?"

"Pretty bad. Hand up?" Adrian obligingly heaves him to his feet, and Rorschach takes his arm, protectively herding him and Walter up the stairs ahead of him. Walter. God. He's a skinny little redhead with freckles and jug ears and as Dan's head clears, it becomes more and more unbelievable. Adrian vanishes, promising to return, and Dan is left in the kitchen with two of his partner. Rorschach digs into his pocket and finds a sugar cube, flipping it to Walter like a coin. He unwraps it and crunches it up, as if there's nothing at all remarkable about Dan seeing his face.

Rorschach ruffles Walter's red hair in a gesture of affection that seems strange to Dan. "...So..." Blotches and that funny-looking hangdog little face both turn to him, and he almost breaks into hysterical laughter. "Either of you hungry?"

"Walter is."

He flushes like a painfully shy kid called on in class. "Not-- Don't need to--"

"I think I'll have to trust your alter-ego on this one, man." He can't help but smile at Walter, since he seems to need it so badly. "I know you like beans and leftover casserole most of the time. Feel any different now?"

He shakes his head and mutters something inaudible. Rorschach puts a hand that is somehow both menacing and comforting on his upper back, and grates, "Walter eats. Don't need to, myself."

"Eh, you'd probably notice if he went without long enough." Dan says, getting up to dig around in the fridge for something Walter will like. Rorschach distrusts foreign food, although Dan is slowly and insidiously winning him over to mild curry. The container in his way is full of vindaloo, so he pushes it aside. After a certain point, spices burn Rorschach's white boy tongue, and he has the disconcerting feeling that now it would actually make Walter cry. There's some Chinese behind it, but it's too old and he's suddenly keenly reminded of how much the housekeeping slides when you spend all your time pretending to be a giant owl. (Now that he's seen the fucking thing, he's trying not to keep seeing it in his head. If that's what drives him, maybe he should just fucking quit.)

"Think it's gonna have to be sandwiches, buddy." He pulls out a package of the kosher roast beef Rorschach likes so much ("Perhaps on to something after all, Daniel") and goes hunting for bread. He's not expecting Rorschach to move with him, and it's a little creepy right at first. It becomes more surreal as he collects the supplies with the knowledge of a man who regularly eats here and ransacks the kitchen when he's bored, setting it all out like a surgeon. The bread, the bottle of cartoon yellow mustard that only kids and Rorschach like, beef, cheddar, and pickles. His black-(gloved? maybe not right now) hands moving with the quick precision of a fistfight. Mustard spread neatly and evenly all the way to the edge, toppings laid out with geometric niceness, and another made in a blink. Once there are three, he lovingly cuts them into triangles as if he's June goddamn Cleaver, and takes the plate to Walter, who thanks him and tears into them hungrily.

Dan smiles. "I have never seen you do anything like that."

"Walter thought you'd make fun of him." He gently squeezes Walter's shoulder, almost like an affectionate father, and looks up into Dan's stare.

"I'm sorry, it's just... fascinating. I mean, mine would probably eat me, but you seem to get along."

"Not always." Walter is quiet, speaking more into his sandwich. "Sometimes we fight."

Dan shudders. "I think I fight with the Owl sometimes, man."

"Probably do." Rorschach says.

"Hey, are you gonna need to sleep? I've got a guest room for Walter."

"Can share a room." He chuckles dryly. "Always do, after all."

"Uh, yeah. I guess so." Dan smiles. "So you do sleep?"

"Not very often, but..." He stops, and Walter picks up his sentence.

"We can't be apart. It's weird enough like this." A vague gesture takes in himself, his other half, and the situation in general.

"Oh." The air is suddenly thick with something Dan can't name, and he excuses himself to go shake out the sheets and make sure the heat is working.

He comes back down quietly enough to hear them arguing before they register his presence, and stops to listen, hardly daring to breathe because Rorschach always finds him when they play high stakes hide and go seek. He's won like, four times. Ever. Now though, they're both pretty distracted.

"No!" Rorschach snaps, and there's a pitiful sniffle that must be Walter.

"Please."

"It's too dangerous."

Walter sobs, and there's a nasty sound like the back of a gloved hand against someone's face, and then a nearly as ominous in context apology, gentle and almost cooing. Dan's stomach turns over. "Walter, honey," Rorschach murmurs, sounding strangely feminine. "You know I don't like to do that."

"Rorschach." He sniffles again, muffled as if he's speaking into the front of his alter ego's trench coat, and Dan doesn't know whether to interrupt them or run, so he does neither.

"Hush."

"No." His voice is firmer, and Dan can hear his feet on the linoleum as he steps away.

"Walter." It's the low growl that he uses on patrol, and Dan tenses to keep him from acting out any of his more violent self-loathing.

"Don't you dare fuck this up for us."

Dan figures Rorschach is about as surprised to hear Walter swear as he is. He sounds like he's found some portion of his spine, and Dan is glad it doesn't all belong to Rorschach. "I'm going to tell him, and it doesn't matter what you do to me."

"Walter..." Rorschach sounds pleading now and Dan feels so much like throwing up that he has to charge into the middle of it to distract himself. This happens on patrol sometimes.

"Tell me what?"

They both jump with a horrible guilt, unconsciously moving closer together. "Daniel..." Rorschach rasps, and Walter shoots him a look that shuts him up. He looks terrified, but he's the one who manages to let go of his alter ego's hand and go to Dan, who now has no idea what the hell is going on. Walter kissing him doesn't really help matters, but it's soft and clumsy and sweet and he puts his arms around Walter before he can flee. He can feel Rorschach tensing to leap on Dan and beat the hell out of him if he harms Walter in any way, but he ignores him. Walter shivers and melts in his arms. When they part to breathe, he tells Dan that he loves him so sweetly and naturally that he can hardly believe it's happening.

Rorschach paces in the background like an angry lion, growling. "Stupid, stupid, stupid goddamn you Walter I'll kill you for this you son of a bitch, do you hear me?" But it's very quiet and he doesn't seem to actually be able to do anything about it, just keeping up an endless stream of threats, insults, and entreaties. With this gentle, human piece of his partner in his arms, Dan is able to tell him how much he returns the sentiment, each loving word seeming to strike Rorschach like a stinging dart, making him flinch and snarl. Walter just coos and nuzzles his neck, sliding shy hands just under the hem of his shirt. When he mirrors the touch, Walter gasps and jumps like it was a lot lower, and looks up into Dan's eyes, so vulnerable that Dan abruptly remembers that he's only half a person. He kisses him softly, and the tiny mewling sound he makes somehow fills the kitchen.

"Daniel..." He whimpers, and he might be shy, but he's rock hard, pressing against Dan because his knees won't quite support him anymore. Dan kisses him again and he moans softly, nails digging into his back.

"Filthy." Rorschach growls, having gone back to pacing. "Sodomites, degenerates, homosexuals..." His hands are crammed into his pockets, shoulders hunched in irritation. "Disgusting." His voice cracks and he turns his back, something in the set of his shoulders making Dan suddenly realize what's going on.

"...Are you jealous?"

"NO!"

Rorschach is jealous. He can hardly believe it himself, but it's there, along with all the other dark things Walter has packed away in him. The fierce part of his damned, ineradicable lust that wants to slam Daniel against the wall and kiss him until he tastes blood, to mark him with bites all over, Rorschach's teeth sharper than human (when he has them, which is by no means a static thing), to yank his hair and make him scream. He tenses all over as Daniel approaches him, and he doesn't know what he's about to do, and that never happens to him.

Dan puts a hand on his shoulder, and suddenly finds himself flat on his back on the floor, heart pounding. Holy god, he didn't even see him move, and now he's got teeth. They're black and white too, like the monochrome maw of a monster drawn by a very young child, but they're real, and they're sharp. One black leather hand tears his shirt enough to free one shoulder, and he lets out a little scream of real terror as Rorschach bites him with those nightmare teeth, the pain sharp and exquisite. "Oh fuck." He whines, about an octave higher than normal, his flailing hands knocking Rorschach's hat askew. "Oh fuck, Rorschach." He can't help but hear his own voice as one of nature's shrill murder alarms, like a mouse in the claws of a...

"Nite Owl." Rorschach growls, and he sounds like a full moon in October, when it rises gold and brooding and makes lovers kill each other and criminals get careless. There's a tongue to go with those teeth, and it's hot against the livid mark on his shoulder, making him moan like a whore. He tears Rorschach's scarf off and flings it aside, not at all surprised to see the mask continuing smoothly down his neck, yanking at his coat without a moment's hesitation. Neither of them pause in their increasingly brutal scramble out of their clothes until Walter's sharp, frightened whimpering registers through the blood in their ears. They freeze in the same instant, as synchronized as they are in combat, and turn their heads to look at him, where he's standing there watching them with the round eyes of a child.

Rorschach gets up and goes to him, Dan right behind on slightly wobbly legs. Walter whines and buries his face in Rorschach's shifting chest, just as symmetrical and unceasing as the mask only with a beautiful living quality. "Hush." Rorschach rasps, stroking his hair. He seems surprised when Walter kisses him on his strange non-mouth, and growls like an old alley cat too tough to purr, kissing back with a strange, melting gentleness.

"God." Dan whispers, kissing the back of Walter's neck. "Oh god, please don't be afraid, it's okay." Walter mewls and shivers, and Dan and Rorschach realize that he's been hard this whole time in the same instant. "All three of us." Dan swallows. "And upstairs, not on the kitchen floor."

"I never..." Walter blushes again, feeling safer between them. "I don't know how." He admits in a nearly inaudible voice.

"Don't worry about it." Dan murmurs. "I'll teach you." They head to the bedroom, Walter shivering like a rabbit and Rorschach stopping once to bite Dan again, making him cry out. All three are clumsy in the charged atmosphere, but somehow they're finally sprawling onto the bed, with Walter's undershirt, Rorschach's hat, and Dan's socks as the only articles clothing present. "S-so how..."

"Both of us in you." Rorschach growls, and Walter hides his face, moisture beading at the tip of his cock.

"Uh, I don't know if I can do that." Dan pushes his glasses up and swallows. "But I really want to find out."

They both watch as Dan prepares himself, flushing bright red under their combined gaze, even if Rorschach sees without eyes. Walter whimpers when Dan straddles him, and again as he sits up straight, biting his lip as he sinks down onto Walter's cock. Rorschach shudders as he watches, muttering distractedly about filth as they both ignore him, Walter cooing and sucking Dan's first two fingers into his mouth in a way that makes Rorschach gasp. Dan moans softly, and barely has time to adjust before one black leather finger is working into him. "R-rorschach..." He whimpers.

"Hurm. Oily. Decadent. Useful." The lube is cold as he adds more, and Dan whines, then groans as he goes from one finger to three with no warning, the stretch huge and burning.

"Oh fuck." Dan whimpers, eyes wide. Walter touches his face and he nuzzles into that callused palm, whining pathetically as Rorschach slowly fucks him, adding more lube and growling when Dan sobs, still hard against Walter's belly despite the pain. He drops onto his elbows and cries out helplessly as Walter latches onto one nipple, cradling that bright head in his hand. "Oh god, Walter..." A particularly rough thrust of Rorschach's hand makes his eyes roll back, and the feel of precome on his skin makes Walter whine. "Oh god, I don't know if I can-" Dan sounds breathless and panicked, and interrupts himself with something that's almost a scream as Rorschach pushes into him, bucking violently between both halves of his partner.

Rorschach kisses Walter over Dan's shoulder, both of them rocking into him as he groans uncontrollably. He can't seem to stop or even modulate the sound, too open and aching and stuffed to manage anything, held up by their hands on him and the motion of their hips, rhythms perfectly matched. They are two halves of the same man, after all, and Dan isn't all that surprised when all three of them come together, Walter mewling and Rorschach snarling. Dan's climax hits him like a nuclear warhead to the base of the spine, and they collapse into a tangled, sticky and exhausted heap on the mattress. They lie quietly for a long time, and when the conversation starts again it's quiet, halting, and full of strange and shy endearments.

The next day Adrian comes back, weird fey futureshock gun in hand. This time Dan actually does examine it, fascinated until Adrian delicately clears his throat and reminds him that they ought to restore Rorschach. He steps back, and Rorschach takes Walter's hand. There's a burst of light, and then Rorschach is kneeling on the floor, wobbling slightly. "Ugh."

"Yeah, pretty much." Dan says, helping him up. "Stay to breakfast?" He asks Adrian.

"I've already eaten, and three's a crowd anyway." He smiles, and it's both beautiful and genuine. "I'll show myself out."

Rorschach tries to have a delayed panic after Adrian leaves, but is lured upstairs with the promise of chocolate chip pancakes and coffee. Dan thinks of feral animals eating from human hands, and stops Rorschach in the middle of his stack to kiss him, tasting the sweetness in his mouth and hearing it in the little sound he makes as he kisses back.


End file.
